The Nark
by nummy12345
Summary: AU prohibition era Captain Swan. Emma is a nark who is giving the info she acquires to the police captain David Nolan. She has taken a liking to Hook a mobster who operates a music hall with a speakeasy in a hidden cellar.
1. Chapter 1

_ANONYMOUS WONDERED:_

_Prohibition era CS. Hook the police academy dropout turned mob boss versus Emma Swan the undercover Fed (FBI was the Bureau of Investigation back then)._

This really helped me get out of my rut anon. Thank you for the prompt. I hope you like it. Here's some prohibition era terminology:

dead solider - an empty beer bottle hard boiled - a really tough guy high hat - snub hooch - bootleg liquor moll - a gangster's girl sheik - guy with sex appeal you slay me - how funny/amusing get a wiggle on - dance or leave edge - intoxicated

* * *

Hook had been doing this for a long time. They'd saunter into his territory playing games as they made their way around the room talking to the women high on jazz; every nark was hoping to catch a break. They were always hard boiled. Real wet blankets putting a damper on everyone else's good time. Thinking they were smart, but being so arrogant about it. Hook could spot a nark a mile away. Always stiff, and far too serious.

The one tonight wore a suit, and the desire to be in blue was evident on his face. A nark is guaranteed the blue depending on the bounty of information he acquired. That's why they sported the dapper disguise. They could almost taste the metal of that badge, he figured; so they'd high hat the patrons for being in the club. Hook learned when he first came to Chicago, you don't drill those looking to feed you. Nobody in his hall dared to give anything up. When the nark reached him at the booth, he smiled. He always smiled at them. Drove them all crazy.

"Looking for a man. Some know him as Mr. Jones."

Five years and the boys were still in the dark. He hadn't been Killian Jones in a long time. "Don't know any Jones."

"Yeah. Seems no one here do. Word on the street is that he's known by some kinda deranged nickname."

At that, he'd always shake his head. "What might that be?"

"Calls himself Hook. Some say it's literal. Lost it after his Moll bit the big one. Cut off his own hand."

His eyes became large. The blue of them shined in the sparkling lights. "A gangster in a music hall!" He laughed with his boys in the booth. The nark stood unimpressed. "You slay me. Anyone here is praying to get lucky enough to wiggle with a dame." Then he waggled his eyebrows. "Myself included."

He appeared to buy that as he eyed his face."Yeah. You're a real sheik. Your luck ain't running out no time soon."

Now he was beaming, and this time he tossed in a wink to seal the deal. The nark did one more round before he bounced. He pulled his left arm from under the table. The red cloth had been added to each table right after he lost his hand. One night, a nark had commented on how it made the place fancy. Quite fancy for concealing.

"Mr. Smee." He turned to the man to the right of him. William Smee. Old timer; his first mate. "The night is young and music's hot. Let's add an edge. Shall we?"

"Aye Aye Cap 'n." His crew always called him that. Funny how the narks only knew him as Hook. None of them would utter Captain aloud. Not now, not ever.

The floorboards came up, and the crowd cheered. Only half were permitted in the cellar. One came out, another went in. Half his crew lingered on top while the other kept an eye out below. He thanked his lucky stars each night for prohibition. Who would have thought pirating booze would earn him an empire? What a business. The cash flowed in and never stopped. People in this city relished in the copacetic speakeasies. Chicago was his thanks to the law.

"Mr. Starkey." He summoned a lanky member of his crew with the cigar in his hand. "That woman. The one in red. Send her over a cigg."

"Aye Cap'n."

He'd seen her several times now. Blonde haired beauty with sad sad eyes. Kept to herself most nights. Never went below. Never danced. Always left with a different man. The loneliness hit too close to his heart for comfort.

When the server presented the silver tray with the ciggs her eyes met his. Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as if she were attempting to figure something out. He watched as she plucked a cigg from the tray and leaned in to have it lit. One long drag followed by a dancing swirl of smoke. She offered him a nod which he reciprocated. Twenty minutes later and she exiting with a different fella.

It was the same routine the next night.

And the one after.

"What's your name, handsome?"

Hook didn't expect her to approach him. It caught him off guard. She was in blue tonight with her elbows pressed on the table of his booth leaning in toward his face. The smirk was there, but it didn't meet her eyes. He had noticed the first night, her smiles never reached her eyes. Just like him she wore a mask.

"Killian." He held a lighter up toward her cigg. "But you already knew that."

"Did I?" She leaned in closer letting the flame catch the paper. "I may have assumed."

"Am I lucky enough to get your name, love?"

"It's Emma."

_Emma._ The sound of her voice kissed his ears. "We're already on a first name basis. Exhilarating."

At that she laughed, and for a moment he swore it reflected in those green gems of hers. She moved next to him without a word, and Hook caught the concerned look from his man at the door. He waved it off and briefly eyed the cellar. He gave the signal. Nobody was allowed out of the cellar.

"Quite the lovely little nark." She leaned in closer to his shoulders and he caught whiff of her scent. Cinnamon sticks.

"Funny word." She replied taking another drag. "Underneath it all I'm just a lonely girl surrounding herself with a crowd." True. Everything about her demeanor screamed it was true, but he knew what she was. He spotted it the first day, and warned himself to remember. "What better way to hide from myself?"

He contemplated her words. After losing Liam, he had been the same. You weren't lonely if you pretended the feelings didn't exist. He'd replace one dead soldier and drown out another till everything around him was numb. This dame, this Emma and the men she strolled out of his hall with each night were her escape and had nothing to do with busting him.

He stopped going below entirely, leaving the care of his hooch to Mr. Smee. Nights were spent taking in jazz, relishing cigars, and savoring the precious time Emma'd grant him. She was bold and he loved it; she was like him, and it scared him shitless. The two were kindred spirits sailing through their own sea of misery. Both had worked hard to claw their way out of the disappointments of the past. He had built an empire from the ground up, and it piqued his interest to know what she had done to escape. Who was Emma underneath the glitz and facade image of their time? All he knew for certain was-

"You're a nark." He remarked for the 100th time. "Nothing illegal here, love. All is well above." He gestured toward the elevated stage where the band played.

"Yes." She smiled, and this time he caught that it was backed with something genuine. A glimpse of emotion he desperately wanted to explore and hold on to. She blinked, and it was gone. Emma brushed the tips of her fingers against his jaw. "But what of below."

"You aren't going to stop are you?" He chuckled leaning into her touch. "You'll return tomorrow?"

She gasped as his warm breath tickled against her cheek. "Killian, you couldn't be rid of me if you tried."


	2. Chapter 2

ANONYMOUS WONDERED:

It's the anon who sent you the Prohibition prompt, any chance of a sequel featuring the upstanding Police Captain Charming, who won't take a bribe and won't take a drink.

Hey anon. Sorry this took so long. It's just shy of 2k words. Basically I made up a whole backstory of why David became a cop. He was with Mary Margaret and she left him without an explanation. Then she was murdered. This one doesn't have any CS, but it's implied and sends David into a frenzy.

Terminology:

bull - policeman

cuddler - one who likes to make out

goofy - in love

on the lam - fleeing from police

* * *

He worried about Emma and peeped down at his watch for the hundredth time that night. 11:59. Wasn't safe for any gal on the streets this time of the evening, but he grasped she could handle herself. Emma was strong and had a mean right hook. Last week, he witnessed her trail after one of Gold's boys when he was on the lam; knocked him square in the jaw. Hit him so hard he lost a tooth.

Emma'd be fine, he assured himself. Still, he seemed antsy. Reckoned that's what fathers do, even the new ones like him. He always imagined he'd be a dad, but after losing Mary Margaret, it didn't seem right. Then Emma waltzed into his life.

He can still picture it like it was just the other day. When she strolled into the station, it winded him. Same face, same ears, same chin. Hell, she was even the same height! Emma was the spitting image of his beloved Mary Margaret, but the eyes, well, those were all him. They stood there a good thirty seconds before she practically leaped into his arms.

Christ, worrying about Emma made him think about Mary Margaret. They were two kids in love. He worked 12 hour days to save enough to buy her the ring. He knew he could never give her the life she deserved, but he was a fool and believed love would be enough. It broke his heart when her and her pop, Leo, ran off to New York. He never got a goodbye. A year later, they were both gone.

David would give an arm for a drink right now. Prohibition was a real hindrance on his nerves, but the law was the law, and it was his job to enforce it. The knowledge that Emma went 18 years without a mom, without him, or a penny to her name made him feel like trash. She wouldn't ever admit it aloud, but he knew from those lonely eyes, all she ever wanted was a family. She searched her whole life to find him. The how of it was still a mystery, but he was too yellow to investigate. Maybe it was guilt keeping him back. What happened to Mary Margaret was tragic. Hell, if he had known about her being pregnant and having a baby, he would have –

"David?" The door slammed closed. He could hear her fumbling with the chain. "David, it's me."

He was relieved to hear her voice, and whistled. "I was getting worried." She delivered a dubious look. "I know. I know. Chicago's not what it used to be."

David lived in a tiny apartment. Emma quipped when he proposed she should move in that it was a castle. Called him a real Prince Charming for letting her stay. She kicked her heels off and made her way to the cabinet in the kitchen. She yanked out two glasses and filled them to the brim with the tap.

"Were you followed?" He asked, raising the curtains to get a glimpse at the street. Thankfully it was empty.

She drained one glass and set the empty cup on the countertop. "No."

"Why were you out so late?"

At that, she side-eyed him. Emma had her secrets, and walls a mile high protecting them. It was wrong to push, but it was his nature. He had been a cop for fifteen years. Interrogations were part of the job, and it was hard to learn how to back off. 18 years, and he knew nothing about his daughter. God, he wanted to know everything.

"Hook's harmless." She answered finishing the other glass. "He's smart. Knows to leave a woman alone unless she says otherwise."

David hated that. The way Emma talked about Hook had shifted. He was positive Hook wasn't all bad to her. Emma'd drifted into some shade of grey and it was dangerous. "You two been getting close?"

She scoffed. "Hook's too smart to misbehave in front of a nark."

His gut wrenched, and it irritated him to high hell that she misdirected his question. David hated that term; nark. He always heard it right before one of his boys disappeared. "He knows who you are?"

Emma shook her head. "No. He knows I want the goods, but he has no idea who I am. Calls me a nark all the time, but he doesn't see me as a threat."

Thank God. If any of the big three happened on that he had a daughter, they'd put out a hit. Mills and him had been at each others throats for over a decade. If she could take away Mary Margaret-

He couldn't bear the notion of losing Emma the way he lost her mother.

"He wouldn't hurt me." She added after catching the paranoid look in his eyes. "Hook's not interested in causing trouble unless it brings trouble to him."

"Hook and his gang have been a real pain in my ass." David growled. "Mills and Gold both have it out for him. They're turning Chicago into a war zone!"

Mills, Gold, and Hook; the big three. All were thorns in his side causing chaos on the streets; his streets. They operated with impunity and had their hands in everyone's pocket. The mayor was a rat, a no good dirty rat who liked to line his wallet with cash, and sold his loyalty to whoever bid the highest; currently that was Hook.

Hook was the newcomer of the big three, but he was just as great a nuisance as Mills and Gold. All three of them bribed any local politician they could. Captain Nolan wasn't a fool, he knew he had traitors in his station. He knew he had boys in blue slumming it in the gutter. If the price was high enough, he was certain the gangs could have anyone.

"Gold killed his Moll." Emma stated letting her eyes settle on the floor. David caught the brief flash of concern before she washed it away. "Chopped his hand off and gave him a warning about touching his things."

A normal fella would have felt sick, but David had gotten used to hearing this sort of thing. Seeing it too. "I heard that rumor. I also heard he lopped it of himself."

Emma twisted the fabric on her dress. He noticed it was a nervous tick of hers.

"He told you that?"

She continued to twist. David didn't like this one bit. Letting Emma be involved was a mistake. She insisted and insisted, and one night disappeared. When she came back with the name to one of Gold's suppliers he felt like he owed her a chance.

"What else he say?"

Emma let go her dress and tugged her hair back tying it with a red ribbon. "He didn't say much, but I filled in the blanks." She bit the bottom of her lip. "Killi-" she paused, "Hook and I, we understand each other."

She slipped. That was all it took. He recognized the look in her eyes.

Absolutely not.

No way.

No.

Nope.

He kicked open the door deciding if he was going in he might as well go in roaring.

"Hook!"

The music hall was packed. Dames wiggling on the floor with fellas just about begging at their heels to be tossed a bone. His eyes scanned the back, and then the walls. Every booth had a man, and each wall had at least one cuddler. A bunch of strangers acting goofy in public probably hoping to get some giggle juice when the coast was clear.

He hated that fucking term. Giggle juice. Call it alcohol, you morons.

"Hook!"

A few dame's stopped dancing to stare. The music was blazing in his ears. Jazz was a glorious thing, but it was putting a hold on his thunder. He kicked over a table with a large vase. It went crashing to the floor.

"Hook!"

A few patrons gasped, so to ease their minds David pulled out his badge. You would think they'd be used to this sort of behavior in a joint run by the mob. Two men made their way behind him blocking the door. Well, at least he knew Hook was here. All it took to get his attention was a scene.

David spun on the balls of his feet shoving his badge in their direction. First guy was an old bird totally grey in the face with lots of wrinkles under the eyes. He was a no-name, and David committed everything to memory for the sketch later. The second was lanky with dark black hair. Him he recognized. Went by Starkey. David scrunched up his nose. Starkey was ruthless if the rumors were true. Went after Gold's only son, and somehow managed to stay alive after.

"You know who I am?" David asked folding his arms.

Neither responded.

"Where the hell is Hook?"

The old bird's eyes flew behind him. Bingo.

"Right this way, Captain Nolan." He said gesturing toward a booth in the back. Old bird planted his hand on his shoulder and David shrugged off his weak effort to escort him. He didn't want scum touching him. Not ever.

Cigar smoke permeated the air. Ventilation in this dump was offensive, he noted with a cough. The red table cloths at all the booths sure were fancy. Too fancy. When his boys arrived, those were the first things to go.

"Bull's here to see you." The old bird said.

"I can see that." He waved off the two men with his cigar. "Captain Nolan, such a surprise to see you in person. Typically your latest nark would have already passed through." Some of his crew sniggered. "Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I've so much."

Yeah, laugh it up morons. David hurled his fist on the table. The man on Hook's right with the red cap jumped.

"Screw the pleasantries, wise guy. You and me got a problem."

"Do we?" Hook pondered with a sneer. "Any problem can be fixed."

"I'm not looking for anything you're offering." He watched as the blue-eyed boy admired his cigar.

"It can with the right solution." He let his words linger a moment.

Hook was perfectly controlled, so David tried to raise the heat on him. "I dare you to go on. Bribe me. Second you do I'll have this whole joint locked down faster than you can blink. I will enjoy sticking you in a pinch."

At that Hook laughed. "My my. Temperamental this day Captain Nolan?"

"You have no fucking idea." A dozen of his boys in blue filed in from the door. Hook let out an abundant puff of smoke. David smirked. "Have a warrant, but I'll give you a choice. Tell me who your supplier is and I'll walk away for now. Where's the booze?"

"All's well above Captain Nolan." Hook said completely calm. "But if you must search, be my guest."

"Ab-so-lutely."

He got his ass reamed by the chief. They ransacked that joint from top and bottom and came out with nothing. No booze. No drugs. No guns. Zilch. Hook sat there and waited like he had no cause for distress. The schmuck appeared to have no cares in the world.

David felt like a joke. He screwed up big time.

When he saw Emma striding out of the toilet with the black heels his heart sank. "Heading out?"

"Yes." Emma said checking her face with a handheld mirror. She caught his worried eyes in the reflection. "He wont hurt me."

"Whoopee." David grunted.

Emma strode over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I thought this was all part of the plan. We rile up the newcomer to show the other two they aren't untouchable."

David pressed his tongue against his teeth. He had made himself into a laughing stock. It was a shit plan executed sooner than he had proposed. The idea of his daughter with that gangster made his blood boil. He wasn't thinking straight.

"I can handle it. I promise." Emma whispered before giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "See you soon, David."

He couldn't summon the willpower to watch her go. Her heels clicking against the floor beat against his ears. Mary Margaret would have been good at this, he thought. What sort of dad was he?

He really was yellow.


	3. Chapter 3

It's short. Next chapter gonna focus on Emma's past and what happened to Mary Margaret and David. Emma needed to let go of her walls a bit to get to that point in the next chapter. Oh and for fun, here's the song they dance to.

Terminology:

bank - kissing or making out butt me - give me a cigarette goofy - in love

* * *

The last thing she needed was to get goofy with a mobster, but here she was strolling up to his club wearing THE heels. She noticed a few weeks back he couldn't handle them. Most nights Killian kept his hand to himself, but when she added the extra two inches, he was at her mercy. Emma liked she had the power to render one of the cities most big and bad speechless. He had a thing for red. Red and the heels. Hook was good at masking his insecurities, but that night they met, he was just Killian and she had him in the palm of her hand. Funny thing was she couldn't bring herself to take advantage.

Deep down, she thought he was too good for her. That's why she always went home with a stranger. It was harder to judge yourself if you knew nothing about the person you were with. No need for any comparison, or guilt. It was a simple way to cope with the pain. Maybe he wasn't too good for her, but Emma couldn't bring herself to think she was worth much to anyone even herself. It was an awful thing, and she knew that.

"Butt me." She said slinking the black coat off her shoulders and handing it to the man at the door. After checking it and tossing the man a nickel, a cigg was in her hand. She liked how simple his club was. He had the ask and you shall receive mentality. Maybe tonight she wouldn't go up there. Maybe tonight she'd just linger by the stage before picking up a fella. Maybe tonight-

She inhaled sharply. How could she of missed that there was no music? Normally the music was so loud you could hear it a block away, but tonight the only thing she heard walking in his club was the sound of her own heels smacking against the wooden floorboards.

The club was empty.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Was this because of what happened with David? Did he find out who she was? The club was down for three days; was this his way of making her father pay for it?

Emma spun around to get a look at the exit. Maybe she could knock out the stiff at the door and make a run for it. She balled up her free hand and brought it to side. If hitting him didn't work, she'd shove her cigarette in his eye socket.

"Easy there, love."

Killian.

Emma glanced over her shoulder. "What the hell is going on?" She could hear the panic in her voice and took a deep breath. Easy Emma. Easy.

He took a step back noticing her discomfort. He wasn't going to hurt her. Seeing him back up made her sure. She let her hand relax and turned to face him head on. Emma's eyes scanned the empty dance floor. The stage was lit up like always and the band was waiting. What were they waiting for?

"What's this? Killi-" Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. All his boys were in their normal posts, but each had their backs turned to them. "Why?"

"Why not?" He replied glancing at the stage and snapping his fingers. The piano man started to play_ Stardust._

_I love this song_, she had said the night they met as she watched the stage. _It starts and ends with hope._

Her eyes fluttered at the memory. That was such a small thing, but he remembered. Nobody ever paid attention like that around her.

"You freed your club for a dance?" At that, he smirked. He offered his arm, and she reluctantly accepted the gesture.

"Perhaps."

"I'm a lousy dancer." She said placing her hand on his upper arm. She lightly draped her fingers over his shoulder. "You're gonna be disappointed." Truth was she never danced with a fella a day in her life. Being an orphan never gave the opportunity. She figured this is where her hand went from pictures she'd seen in the paper and advertisements.

He brought her right hand to his and waggled his eyebrows. "With you? Never."

A heavy gasp escaped from her lips when his hook stopped on her waist. It had been the first time she'd seen it. Each night they spent chattering about in that booth he never removed it from the safety of that red table cloth.

"You're wearing them." He spoke softly into her hair. "You did that on purpose."

"Yes." Emma was focusing on her feet. They had yet to move. Was she supposed to go first, or him? The music was lovely and standing so close to him felt intimate. It threw her emotions for a loop making her feel anxious, wonderful, and scared all at the same time. He guided her. Emma stumbled at first, and looked down at her feet once more. Christ she felt awkward.

"Your Captain is a real charming fella."

Emma nodded. She was worried about David. Not only had he jumped the gun with the warrant, but he had sent a message to all three -Mills, Gold, and him- that the police were in the dark. There was nothing they could do about the mob.

Emma stumbled again, this time stepping on his toes. "Jesus! I'm sorry."

She caught the wince, but he didn't utter a word. His silence brought her thoughts back to David. David was her father, and here she was dancing with someone he marked an enemy. She knew if he could see her now that he'd be disappointed. She had only had a dad for six months, and suddenly she felt so wrong about it, like she was letting him down and screwing everything up. Having parents is all she ever wanted, but she didn't know the first thing about how to make David happy. He just about had stars shining in his eyes when she got the goods on Gold's supplier, and now here she was, one step away from banking with Hook.

No. Not Hook. Killian.

Emma rested her head against his chest taking in his smell and letting herself sink into his arms. She removed her hand from his and pulled it around his neck. She could feel his breathing become stagnant as his hand moved to cup the back of her head.

"You have his eyes."

The tears were coming. "You knew?"

"Aye. I saw it the moment he stepped through the door."

When the first tear came it burned against her skin. She should of never came to Chicago. All she'd been doing is making life more complicated for David… and her. Whatever this was between her and Killian was downright terrifying. She was supposed to go in and find the supplier. What the hell was she doing?

"Emma." He breathed.

"I just found him." The words came out strangled. "Please don't-"

"I won't."

The music had stopped playing but they remained enveloped against one another. If he tried, she'd kiss him. She needed to get the hell out of here.

He must of sensed it. "Will you return tomorrow?"

She nodded and pressed herself closer to his neck.

"Your secret is safe with me, love."

As she pulled away she knew that she believed him.


	4. Chapter 4

Here is part four. Sorry it took so long to upload.

Prohibition Anon: I'm totally doing your prompt for the next chapter. I was halfway done with this when you sent it and it wouldn't have fit with this portion. I'll be updating again in a day or two.

Terminology:

a pair of C's - $200

dizzy with a dame - deeply in love with a woman

tomato - woman

* * *

Leo Blanchard had a hand in everything, and was one of the first gangsters to make a real name for himself after the Great Chicago Fire. Nouveau riche born from the underworld. The society that once shunned him learned to fear him, and in the end, they ultimately accepted him. Times had changed; gangsters were being embraced by the city, and its patrons were wooed by men who made it easy to earn a quick buck.

David should have known from the get-go that their story would be one with a tragic ending, but when she strolled into his life he became dizzy. It was the day he remembered how to hope. David fell hard for one of Chicago's own Princesses. Pondered countless hours how they even crossed paths. Dwindled down to fate, he supposed. Fate or sheer dumb luck. They met in a church, but he never got to walk her down one.

She was civic elite living on the tree-lined Golden Coast in opulence; mansion was so ritzy he'd call it a palace. Guess when you were living in and out of orphanages while mama worked herself to death you'd see any home that way.

Three months after turning eighteen, his mama fell ill, and it's what brought him to the church that night. It had been pouring rain, but he made his way through the streets while his sanity dangled on a thread. He'd never been a man that believed in divine intervention but that night he found himself praying to anyone out there that would listen.

It was like the air had been sucked out his lungs when she entered the church in that blue dress. Leo Blanchard trailed in after her; David recognized him right off the bat from the photographs he'd seen in the papers. Older man dressed in threads so fine it'd take David a lifetime to match him. He dropped a pair of c's in the collection box before sitting in the last pew. She had taken her time in the entryway dipping her fingers in the holy water and genuflecting.

She passed her father and sat in the pew directly behind him. David tried not to stare, but he never was any good at turning his head away from things so beautiful. God she was beautiful with her raven hair and pale white skin. Lips were as red as a ruby, and accompanied by the most gentle eyes he'd ever seen. David felt the blush creeping up his cheeks when they briefly made eye contact. Turning away at that point was useless, but he forced it and focused on the red-headed woman five feet in front of him.

"It's impolite to stare." She whispered into his ear. Her breath against his skin made him shiver. "Everything alright?"

"Y-yeah." He stammered debating if he should face her. He did. "Sorry."

She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together setting them on her lap. "No need to apologize. I sat behind you for a reason handsome."

He was speechless. Heart was throbbing so hard he swore it'd burst. He could feel the sweat accumulating in his palms. This dame tweaked his insides turning him into a bundle of nerves.

"What's your name?" She asked with a wide smile.

"Nolan. D-David Nolan." He rubbed his palms on his pant leg. Ask her, he tried to will himself. Ask for her name. Don't be yellow.

She beat him to it. "Mary Margaret."

* * *

David was jolted awake by the door slamming shut. Instinct had him reaching for his gun, but the fumbling chain halted it. Emma, he noted with a short yawn. He brought both his hands to his face to rub the sleep out his eyes.

"David, it's me." Emma called out, she was a creature of habit like him, but tonight her voice was all choked up on something bitter.

He glanced down at his watch. It was a quarter past 10. Emma had never once come home this early. "Everything alright?"

"No."

Seeing her standing in the room made him leap to his feet. Her eyes were swollen and pink. Cheeks stained with dried up trails of tears. She grasped her upper arm and looked at the ground like something in her had shattered. That looked wrecked him. For a moment he swore she was her mother.

"Emma." It came out as a whisper. He reached out to touch her but drew back. Would she even let him? Is that what fathers did? He could feel the guilt heaping up inside him. He didn't even know how to comfort her. "Was it Hook?"

She shook her head.

Like hell it wasn't. "You've been crying."

His heart wrenched in his chest. He'd seen it before 20 years ago when Mary Margaret came to him in the middle of the night after telling her folks she was in love with him.

"You look so much like your mother." He brought his hand to his temple and began to rub. "I feel like I'm looking at a ghost right now." Emma glimpsed up with a sad curiosity. "Christ, I'm sorry. I shouldn't say that-"

"Say it." Emma interrupted. "I been wanting to know about my mother since I was a little girl." She closed her eyes and tilted her head down a bit as a tight lip smile washed over her face. "All I know is she died."

Regina came to his mind. That damn photograph in the paper of her in black. Mourning; grieving. It was placed right next to a scrubbed up photo of the police pulling out a body -HER body- from the Hudson. It was a big deal in Chicago when news traveled back that Leo Blanchard and his daughter had been murdered while on holiday. Rumors from the underground surfaced that the pair was knocked off by his wife… her step mother.

"Your timing is lousy." Emma's voice led him back to the apartment.

He snickered. "My timing has been lousy with everything I've done my entire life, kid."

David gestured toward the sofa before sitting down on his chair. The past was hard to meet. 20 years of pain had taken a toll on him. "What do ya' wanna know?"

Emma bit down on her lower lip while looking at him with anxious eyes. "Everything."

* * *

**20 years ago**

"I am a mess." Mary Margret sobbed pushing away his arms when he tried to embrace her. She gripped her upper arm and let her head hang down toward the floorboards. Something about the way her body swayed with each sob made his insides rattle. "They absolutely forbid it. Said I couldn't possibly understand love."

David watched as a tear etched its way down her freckled face and pooled at her chin. "They don't understand our l-love." His voice seemed choked. Truth was this is what he expected to happen. No working boy would ever be good enough a man for a Princess. He slid his hand into his pocket and firmly pressed against the box he had just acquired the other morning. "We will figure something out."

They had only known each other a year, but what a year it had been. She'd cried before, but never because of him. This was his fault. She shouldn't of had to face them on her own, but Mary Margaret had insisted and like the chicken he was, he let her go.

"How? How David?"

He tried once more to envelope her in his arms. This time she collapsed into his chest sobbing heavily into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't know." He admitted stroking her hair. "But I love you, and I wont lose hope that one day we will be together."

He'd go there tomorrow. He'd go there and show them how much he loved their daughter. He'd prove it somehow and it would work out. It had to work out. What they had was special and worth fighting for.

"Don't lose hope." He whispered before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. "Don't ever lose hope."

* * *

Emma's green orbs blinked frivolously. "You two didn't listen, or I wouldn't be sitting here right now."

"She was so sure that Leo would come around eventually." He gulped. Christ he wanted a drink. Damn the stupid law. The next part was tough. He had to squeeze his hands to stop them from shaking. The violent memory from his past made him quiver with anger. The next part is what altered his life permanently. "It was Regina who wouldn't back down."

"Regina?" She gasped. "You mean…"

David took in a deep breath and held it for a beat. A dull ache rose from the back of his neck and spread its way up to his forehead. It was now or never. "Yeah, I do. Regina Mills."

"Regina Mills? David-" he recognized the gears as they churned in her brain. "Regina Mills is my grandmother?"

Her expression shifted. Emma went from stunned to terrified to downright furious. When she had first asked him why he became a cop, he had no qualm relinquishing that the love of his life had been murdered by a gangster. He didn't object yielding his desire to bring down any of the mobsters in the city once Mary Margaret was taken from the world. Concealing why, and that she'd been offed by family, well, reckoned he believed shielding Emma from that tale was the smart thing to do; maybe he was doing it to protect himself. He was fixedly looking into the eyes of his daughter who was glaring back.

"You lied." Her voice cracked. "You lied to me."

He was no good. Lousy as a cop; an even lousier father.

"This whole… this… you aren't wanting to send a message to the big three. You wanna send a message to her."

He nodded.

Prohibition had changed everything. The law took power away from the Everyday Joe and laid it into the hands of those willing to buy it with whatever they hand lining their wallet. It made him sick to his stomach that the youth in the city were dazzled and wooed by making a quick buck that they'd embrace the mob with open arms. People needed to eat, he supposed; take care of their own. Crime had become the norm in Chicago because working long days in a factory till your hands bled for chump change was a doomed victory. Why struggle and exhaust your health when marketing illegal booze brought a lifetime of comfort?

"You sent me to him wanting me to drag him down all so you could claw your way up to her."

He had been against sending her, but Emma'd insisted. He did what was easy, just like he did in the past. Christ he'd never learn.

"What will you do David once you knock her out of her castle? Kill her?" Her harsh voice bit against his ears.

"They all deserve whatever is coming to them. I'd lock away Hook for a lifetime, and he'd be right where he belongs."

"Don't avoid answering my question! You pop one into Regina, and you're no better then her!"

He let her incredulous comment sink in. No better than Regina? He was on the opposite spectrum of Regina. He protected the people from Regina while she brought hellfire and war into their everyday lives on the streets.

She jumped up from the sofa and started to pace by the window. "Killian can spend a lifetime in jail, but Regina deserves to die?"

He scoffed. She was bringing it back to Hook calling him by his other name. His daughter was falling hard for a gangster. "I'm done talking about Hook!"

"Hook? Stop avoiding my question!" She fought back.

"I see the way you look when you talk about that rat! Listen to me now Emma, and listen good." He pointed at her and narrowed his eyes. Don't say it. He knew saying it would be a mistake, but the words tumbled out anyway. "I'll end up fishing you out of a lake and putting you in a body bag if you don't walk away from that crook! You're my daughter! I don't want to lose you the same way!" He ruffled his hair. His face was as hot as the wood burning in his stove. David's entire body was shaking. "Once he knows who you are, it wont be long till they all know. I don't care how much you believe he won't sell you out, or hurt you. Because the truth is Emma he's a criminal. He'll make a deal to save his ass over you any day. If Mary Margaret can be offed by her own family that fella you're getting dizzy for can do it to you."

Emma stopped pacing and faced him head on. Her fist was balled up at her side. "You're saying I'm just another tomato on a vine to Hook?" It was laced with sarcasm. "Easily replaced."

"If Hook tells Regina…" He growled. "Once Regina knows who you are, I swear to God Emma, she will come after you. We've been neck at neck with each other for over ten years; she'll stick it to me in any way she can! I'd put a bullet between her eyes before I let her take you away from me again!"

"Why couldn't you tell me from the get go? Why did you let me feel around Killian's club while keeping me in the dark? Maybe I shouldn't of come here!"

Something in him snapped. Killian. Stop saying his name. "I didn't want you to go anywhere near him but I couldn't stop you! It isn't safe for you here!"

"Well maybe I should just leave!" She yelled pushing him in the chest.

"Maybe you should get the hell out of Chicago!"

He regretted saying it moment the last word rolled out his lips.

* * *

** 20 Years Ago**

It was fitting that on the night he first made his way to the Golden Coast that it'd be raining. He pressed against the box in his palm as he looked at the last castle on the block. He'd fight for his gal… even if it killed him.


	5. Chapter 5

I wanted to introduce the supplier this chapter, but it's gonna have to wait. It didn't flow at all. Hook and Captain Nolan are gonna get messy coming up here soon. Then with the supplier, we'll see why Hook came to Chicago. Sorry it took so long to update.

* * *

He had been a bluenose to the crew after Emma rushed out his arms. He took a much needed breather as the piano man played a tune. Jazz was one cure for a lost soul like him; jazz and his preferred medicine: booze. He let the music wash away his daily sins, and the alcohol cleanse his bloody soul.

The lass had begged him not to hurt her father.

He took a long swig from a tin cup and frowned at the not so distant memory. Club was closed, and there was no sense wasting away in a dank cellar. Emma was etching her way into every damn thought he had. The booze certainly helped.

Hook had asked the band to play throughout the night. He promised to make it worth their while and dropped a pair of c's into the drummers cap. He dropped two more after they finished playing Stardust for the second time. He sat on the edge of the stage tilting his head toward the lights and letting the music guide him like the wind guided a ship on open water. He had been wearing black for far too long; deep down he was still that young lost boy longing to one day be found. When his eyes drifted shut, he saw his first love- the sea. When they opened, he saw Emma. Green gems clouded in a misty haze desperately reaching out to him.

For a brief second, he saw Liam in those eyes, and then Milah. He felt a sudden lump in his throat as he blinked away the faces from his past.

He pulled himself to his feet. Already she was dragging him to her. Her lips parted before something in her throat clicked. Had to been one of the colder nights in recent days. Wind picked up shortly after she left, and here she was cradling her arms silently in front of him completely barefoot. Her hair was disheveled. Eyeliner smudged with a dried river of grey stained onto her pale cheeks.

"What's the matter Killian?" Her voice faltered, but she somehow managed to bear her white teeth in a smile. "Can't a gal get cigg around here?"

Hook was sure if he touched her the facade would crack.

"Smee!" He called out gliding toward her. He pulled his arm through his suit's jacket and used his free hand to remove the other arm from around his namesake. "Mr. Smee!"

"Aye, Cap'n?" The voice was coming from the back of the hall. The gangster always in his signature red cap grimaced when coming closer to the banister. Hook paid the slip-up no mind. Her body was unchanging with the phrase that was forbidden.

"Get the lady something hot!"

Smee nodded.

Emma's body shook from stored up sadness, and it damn near broke his insides as he draped the jacket over her shoulders. His fingers briefly whisked against the bare skin of her back. Her breath hitched. Emma was as cold as an icicle.

"Love?" He whispered as he smoothed down wild strands of her hair. The way she shuttered from his touch wasn't unnoticed. "How long were you out without a coat?"

She pulled her arms closer to her body letting her head tip toward her shoulder. "I walked."

"You walked?" He took a deep breath. "We need to get you warm, love."

"I'm sure you can find ways to warm me."

He gulped. His entire body tensed as he watched her with concerned eyes.

"How about a cuppa Joe?" He suggested masking his features. His face was solid. "We need to get you something hot."

"I came here for something hot."

At that, his knees buckled. Emma was a tough one. A dame he was certain would not yield to her own despair. She'd bandage it any way she could.

"Perhaps a blanket?" He offered, placing the tip of his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

Her shoulders lurched forward. "I get it. You don't have to be so damn noble, Hook."

He sighed at the use of his nickname. "I'm not a saint, love." He conveyed, a harsher tone to his voice.

She snickered. "You never take advantage."

It doesn't mean that I don't want you.

A simple tryst would never be enough. He wanted to wipe away the makeup and kiss her eyelids. Hold her till she asked him to let go. If she'd let him, he'd be hers till he stopped breathing. He wanted to say the words, but it was never right. So he thought them as he rubbed his hand against the outside of his coat trying to create some heat on her arm.

Emma. Emma. Emma.

He smiled sadly.

Emma. Emma. Emma.

The name echoed in his mind and warmed his soul in ways he couldn't even describe.

He watched her carefully as her body trembled wanting to know each memory that tortured her. More than anything, he wanted to whisk all the problems away. She made him dizzy. He was sure that when he closed his hall that night to dance that he was half in love with her. It wasn't until he opened his eyes and found hers intently staring back at his that he realized he was completely gone.

Smee cleared his throat from behind him. "Water's boiling on the kettle."

"Hurry it up!" He answered as Smee capered away. "Love?" He sighed into her hair, his voice gentle. "Shall you stay for a cuppa Joe?"

She nodded before a resounding sob overcame her. His arms were around her before it even stopped. To cry was damn painful, but a good cry was a start to help mend a broken soul.

* * *

Captain Nolan had one of his hard-boiled dick's on the corner when the sun peaked over the city. Whatever line he pulled on his daughter had gutted her. Words stung. Words were fierce. Words could make a level headed fella go off his rocker in a matter of seconds. He knew right off the bat that Emma was a dame who stacked her burdens. She buried them deep below the surface. If you didn't look carefully you'd never spot anything was wrong. To see her so vulnerable and unguarded filled him with both sorrow and hope. The fact he was pleased she'd trust him at all made him feel guilty. He was rotten to the core, and believed he didn't deserve it.

Someone was rapping on the door. It creaked open and light permeated the dark room. It brought the draft along with it.

"Bull's at the door, cap… sir." Starkey ran his fingers through his oily hair when spotting Emma in the bed. "Sorry for the intrusion."

Hook waved off the apology. She'd slept throughout the night while he watched over her from his arm chair. "Has he been extended an offer in, or has he taken it upon himself?"

Starkey groused. "Ain't hard to guess."

"Wonderful." Hook grumbled.

"That ain't all." He caught the look that accompanied the shaky voice. "Downstairs." He cleared his throat. "We have an unexpected guest. Said he was happy to wait. Wanted to wait alone."

Hook's blue eyes grew wide as he pulled himself out of the chair. The timing could not of been worse. Starkey clapped his hand against his boss' shoulder in sympathy.

"Yes, well it's bad form to keep them both waiting." He eyed the door and Starkey nodded before simpering off into the darkness of the hallway.

"Love, would you care to accompany me to the club?"

Her silence answered him. He waited a moment. Her back was turned toward him. Lingering eyes caught her body rise and fall.

"Very well." He said with a frown. "You need rest. I'll be back."

When he slowly pulled the door closed, Emma's eyes opened.

He figured it wise to take care of the father before the unexpected and more importantly uninvited guest. Surely he would cause a scene.

Judging by the broken glass dispersed across the dance floor, he was correct.

Captain Nolan was a sight for sore eyes. Hook examined the man in front of him. The stubble lining his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes, and the way his shirt was wrinkled… he had been suffering through the evening undoubtedly with regret. Him and Emma shared the same eyes. Both overtook by an expression of sorrow.

"Hook!" He called out smashing a bulb on the stage with his gun. The way his body stumbled about, he'd of sworn the straight-laced cop had an edge. "Hook!"

His face twitched when he obliterated yet another bulb. His crew was pinpointed in every corner watching with guarded eyes. Any signal from the boss and David Nolan would be taken care of immediately.

"Captain Nolan!" He called out seizing the banister with his hand and arching his brow. He kept his hook out of sight.

"Hook." He glowered treading forward.

"Always a pleasure. What brings you to my establishment at such a spritely hour?"

"Where's the booze, Hook?" David turned to face the door in a fury. More than likely anticipating his boys. Just how many of his blue soldiers were readying outside begging for the chance to pinch him and his crew?

"I thought you may have come for the music. This is a music hall after all. Sadly, we're not open at the moment." He smiled weakly at the unamused scowl he received. "Clearly you see no alcohol Captain Nolan." He gestured around the empty tables. "I can guarantee you that-"

"Shut your trap!" David yelled kicking over a table. A crystal vase shattered when it connected with the floor. Hook narrowed his eyes.

"I believe you gracing me with your presence today extends beyond the law of the land." When Captain Nolan gritted his teeth, Hook provided a satisfied wink. He had struck a nerve and gave the Captain an answer to the question that was plaguing his insides. Yes, Emma had come to him. Yes, she was still here.

With the dance floor between them, both men made no signs of moving on the other.

"Shall we continue this conversation, or have we run out of things to discuss? You won't detect anything obscure."

He scoffed. "We'll see about that."

"Do what you must Captain Nolan." He sighed. "Search. Tear the hall apart. I have another engagement to make." He rolled his eyes. Would this become a regular occurrence? Eventually, he'd have to take care of it. Promise or not, he'd keep the cops out of his neighborhood once they started to hit his wallet. "I trust you have a warrant?"

Captain Nolan yanked the paper from his shirt and cast it on the ground. He made sure to spit on the flooring right after.

"Lovely." He sniggered before heading toward the exit. Within seconds, a dozen cops flooded through the front doors. Smee folded his arms as he watched the police Captain dictate orders.

Hook leaned into earshot of Smee. "I trust you'll be able to handle this situation?"

"Aye." He nodded.

Yeah, you better. "I'll return soon. The ship has docked early I'm afraid."

He didn't miss the way his right-hand man eyes twitched.

"What's going on?"

He halted at the sound her voice.

"D-David?" Emma stuttered. "Captain Nolan?"

He high-tailed it back toward the hall accidentally bumping shoulders with Smee. All eyes were on Emma.

It was time to face some bitter music.

Pan could wait.


End file.
